


Withering Dreams of Salvation

by UltimateDespairs



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, It's hard, M/M, Post-Canon, Self Harm References, Suicide Attempt, Terminal Illnesses, based from tumblr, but other characters will come in from time to time, hinata is just trying to help, i'm a sinner who's lost control of these characters, idealizing death, komaeda is messed up, mostly focuses on Hajime and Nagito because I'm trash, obviously, post sdr2, rating might change eventually, spoilers galore for the whole game, suicide cw, suicide references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-08 16:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7765639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateDespairs/pseuds/UltimateDespairs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's falling on the breeze, being blown around like a stray flower petal that now has no destiny but to die. It's okay, it's fine, it's what he deserves, what he wants. He didn't expect someone to try to reach out for him, to try and catch him between their fingers even as he kept slipping out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

No one goes to Komaeda’s room. **  
**

Everyone has someone that visits them; Nidai and Owari, Kuzuryuu and Pekoyama, Sonia, Souda, and Tanaka. They’re almost inseparable. But they try and visit the others, too. They even visit Tsumiki, occasionally. He can hear them reminisce about how she used to be a good friend, and they’ll help her recover from despair, that she can do it. But no one visits Komaeda.

_Now that I’m at the end of my life, I’ve realized all I’ve wanted was somebody’s love. It’s lonely to die alone…_

He tries not to think about it. He deliberately walks past his room, even as others slowly wake up. Mioda first, the Nidai, then Saionjii. It seems like the medications the doctors Naegi and the others gave them are working, at least somewhat. Even though there’s less people without a very significant other to watch over them, he avoids Komaeda, days turning into weeks.

But he feels aimless. Especially when he sees how attentive the others are. How they watch over their closest ones with passion, how it gets them through the day. If there was a way to get Nanami back, to take  care of her, he’d be there by her side. But there isn’t.

And he keeps going back to Komaeda, in his mind.

He wasn’t lying. He really does have dementia and cancer. The doctors said so. _Why did he tell me it was a lie? Was it just to mess with me?_

He looks at himself in the mirror, sees the blood red eyes, the long dark hair that won’t stay short for long after he cuts it. He runs a hand through it out of habit.

Almost everyone has woken up. There’s just a few left; Tsumiki, Koizumi, Tanaka. And Komaeda.

The doctors think that because of his brain diseases, he most likely will never wake. He’s dying anyway, they say. Because of the cancer. And he improves the least out of anyone on a day to day basis. He’s dying. He’s dying. He’s definitely dying.

When the doctors say that, something snaps within him. He stands up in the middle of the meeting, not caring that everyone is staring, and rushes from the room, down the halls, standing in front of the door that he’s almost passed through dozens of times. He pushes his bangs back. Reads the name at the top. Komaeda Nagito.

He’s not ready for this.

There might not be another chance.

He opens the door, closes and locks it behind him. Being here feels shameful, in a way.

“Komaeda.” He breathes. He’s heard the others talking to the ones in comas, before. People say they can hear what they say, somehow.

Komaeda looks weak. His skin is stretched taut over his bones, making him even skinnier then he was in the program. That hand is gone, replaced with a stump, thank god. There’s a mask over his face. The monitor beeps, showing his lifeline in a green bar, showing his heart rate.

He doesn’t care what the doctors say. He’s alive. There’s a chance. There’s always a chance.

He sits on the edge of the bed, looking down at him, watching the ventilator make him breathe, keep him alive.

“You’re the Super High School Level Luckster.” He whispers, as if he’s afraid someone will hear him. A beep answers him. “…You should have been the first to wake up.”

Only beeps answer. Steady sounds of lungs expanding and contracting.

“…Maybe you don’t want to wake up, then. Is that it?” He knew willpower was, strangely, a part of it, even if it didn’t make much sense to him. He can’t believe he speculates this; he always tries to understand Komaeda, even though it’s impossible. Komaeda is complex, almost purposefully so. He always tries to understand him, even though he never can.

“…You basically killed yourself in the program…” He murmurs, words flying from him. “I know…I understand that you wanted to kill all of us. There are a lot of people that would agree with you on that, apparently.”

“I…I can understand that part, but….why did you hurt yourself so badly, Komaeda? The spear…the knife…you had to cover your mouth so we wouldn’t hear you scream in agony.” He shudders. “Why? That’s the part I can’t understand. Why were you so violent with it? Are those two things connected…?”

Komaeda doesn’t answer. Will he ever get an answer? Will he ever be able to know for sure? Beep, beep, beep.

“…I want you to wake up.” He sighs, hanging his head. “Almost everyone else is up. I don’t want anyone else to die. Even you.” This is starting to feel silly, talking to himself. Komaeda can’t hear.

“I want to understand you.” He breathes, not looking up. “They say you’re going to die. That there’s no chance of you surviving. I don’t…want it to end like this. I want to help you. I want you to realize…you’re not beyond saving.” He didn’t realize that he felt this way until he opened his mouth, and words flowed out like a river.

“If you really can hear me…if you really were…in love with the hope inside me….I want you to wake up, Komaeda…” He lifts his head, a small part of him hoping he’ll be sitting up, looking down at him.

He’s not.

“I’m not going to give up hope.” He says, voice sounding stronger as he stands up. “I’ll keep looking for a way to wake you up. I will.” He nods slowly. Komaeda takes a deeper breath, and his own heart stops.

Then he’s back to breathing normally.

“…I’ll come visit you tomorrow.” He says, sounding determined, nodding slowly. “So don’t die…okay? And try to wake up…use your luck, somehow. I don’t know. You’ve done more impossible things with it then wake up from a coma, if what you said was true.” He pauses, watching him breathe.

“And I believe it was true.”

It’s not until he says it that he realizes it’s true. After finding out he really had cancer and dementia…he does believe about his parents, and his kidnapping. He doesn’t know why Komaeda lied about lying about those things. But he knows…no, he _believes_ , that it was true.

“…Good night, Komaeda.” He murmurs, and turns from his side after one more look.

Steady beeps follow him as he exits into the hallway. He’s still alive. There’s still a chance.

It wouldn’t be strange if a miracle happened, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

He tries everything. He feels the frenzy, now, that he sees the others had when they were trying to wake up their closest friends. The others seem to think it’s rather alarming, that he’s feeling something like this because of Komaeda. This passion. This drive. This hope. Most of the time he’s in the library on the island, researching neurology. When he’s not there, he visits Komaeda, just to make sure he’s alive. **  
**

It’s kind of weird to research it. The more he understands about it, the more he understands how he became Izuru Kamukura. That’s not really something he wants to think about, but for Komaeda…

When he realizes that, though, he realizes something else.

_Izuru._

_He would know how to wake up Komaeda._

His fingers freeze on the page he’s turning. He can’t remember being Izuru very well, which is both a blessing and a curse. He remembers feeling constant boredom, feeling used. No wonder he joined the Despairs, feeling like that. He can’t remember what finally broke him, or how it happened. Enoshima, she must have done something…broke his spirit, she said. He takes in a sharp breath, and shakes his head. That knowledge, though, those talents…they’re all there, aren’t they? Deep inside of his brain…

He doesn’t need to remember being Izuru to get them, does he?

He closes his eyes, rubs the closed eyelids. He doesn’t even know if he could do that, let alone if he wants to. He’ll research this stuff for Komaeda, try and figure out a way to wake him up, but to become Kamakura again? That’s going too far…

But maybe he can reach those talents…if he tries hard enough.

He throws himself into researching more and more, after that, hoping to find something that will trigger his talents, or at least some of the knowledge that he had before. Even after days, weeks…he can’t reach that part of his mind.

But, he has found something. A possibility. He’s no neurosurgeon, but he takes his idea to the people who are. The look it over, speaking to each other in hushed voices while he stands there, fists tightly clenched. Maybe I didn’t think it over enough, but–

“Even with your idea and combinations, Komaeda-san’s diseases make it unlikely that he’d survive this operation–”

“I don’t care about the odds.” He snaps, sounding oddly authoritative. Maybe there’s some part of Izuru still left in him. “He’ll survive.” His luck will let him survive.

_If he wants to survive._

They look over each other, the papers, then him. Then, slowly they nod.

Now all he can do is wait.

His heart is beating erratically in his chest as he paces back and forth in the hospital waiting room. He can hear the click clack of his shoes as they hit the tiles. What if he doesn’t want to wake up? Will his luck make it so he’ll die, instead? If that’s what he wants? Or maybe that would be his bad luck, or something, and he’d wake up anyway.

Understanding Komaeda’s luck is hard. How could he really be lucky if his parents died? Or if he got cancer? If he was kidnapped? All these horrible things…

But he was also the sole survivor of a plane crash, won the lottery, got into one of the best school’s in Japan…

It’s so strange.

Minutes turn into hours, and so a few of the others trail in. Kuzuryuu and Pekoyama, Nevermind and Souda. But there aren’t many people exactly wanting Komaeda to wake up, so he supposes that the small number is understandable. It hurts a bit, though, to see. They all did horrible things...true, they have the excuse of Enoshima to fall back on, and Komaeda didn't have it in the game, but it still seems...unfair. All of them deserve second chances. Even the ones that don't want one.

“Hinata-san…” Nevermind starts, looking him over, “a-are you certain this is a good idea?”

He shakes his head, pushing his hair back. “Waking up Komaeda, you mean?”

“N-Not exactly….” She trails off, grabbing her arm, “we promised we’d wake everyone up, all of our friends…and that includes Komaeda. The idea of an operation, though…isn’t it dangerous? The others didn’t need one, and he’s sick…”

“He’ll be fine.” He’s telling himself more then he’s telling Nevermind, really. “He’s got that crazy luck, remember? If anyone can survive this, it’s him.”

  
She looks at him, biting her lip, but then nods slowly. Kuzuryuu clicks his tongue.

“He better survive, dammit. I’ve still got a few bones to pick with him.”

“You got that right!” Souda agrees, “and you sure ain’t the only one.”

Hinata wants to protest, to defend Komaeda strangely, but he cuts himself off, staring down at the ground instead. The ticking of the clock seems louder and louder, until finally a doctor pushes through the door. They all look up at her, Hinata feeling like his heart is going to stop.

_If he dies…didn’t I basically kill him? I thought of this idea, put together the plans, when I’d only studied Neurology for two months…_

_What if he dies, and that’s that?_

“Komaeda-san…he survived the procedure.” She says, simply, as if she isn’t returning breath to Hinata’s lungs with the words. He’s alive.

“…He’s also woken up, but there are certain side effects.”

He doesn’t care about side effects. Rushes go through him, and he has to balance on the wall. Komaeda’s awake. Komaeda’s alive.

“What side effects, please?” Nevermind asks quietly. He doesn’t care–he’s ready to run through that door, right now–

“His memory seems to be having trouble coming back. He doesn’t seem to remember the later parts of the simulation program you were all in, yet.” She shakes her head, “likely due the trauma around that time.”

He exhales.

_That’s perfect, isn’t it?_

Komaeda doesn’t remember about him being Kamakura, about him being a reserve course student, about them being Despairs…about his death…

The others and the doctor are talking, but Hinata can’t hear anything but static. When he finally can talk, his mouth feels dry.

“Can I see him?” He blurts out. The doctor looks at him, and slowly nods.

“He’s in room four, Hinata-san. And, Hinata-san? Thank you for your plans. We may be able to wake up the others with this, as well.”

He barely hears her. He barely hears Nevermind telling him to wait, either. He just rushes through the halls. The door’s already open. He looks in, and there he is. Moving. Alive. Awake. Those gray-green eyes aren’t the same dead and terrified eyes he saw in the simulation. They’re alive, looking over the stump at the end of his wrist with the careful, thoughtful look Komaeda always had when he was investigating. He guesses they couldn’t tell him exactly what had happened, with that. He’s probably trying to figure it out. Though, he looks pretty calm for someone looking at their own amputated wrist…but that fits Komaeda, doesn’t it? He’s almost forgotten about how strange, how alarming he is with how much he wanted him to wake up.

His hair is whiter, here. He’s noticed it before, when he’s come to visit. But contrasted with his now alive skin, it seems even whiter. Relief hits him over and over, and he leans against the doorframe, eyes wide.

“Komaeda.” He breathes. Komaeda jolts, then starts to look up at him. He can see a smile forming over his lips, that gaze of pure adoration Komaeda always gave him, at least until he found out the truth, turning to meet his gaze.

  
“Hinata-kun!” He starts, looking ecstatic, but then. Something goes wrong.

He meets his eyes.

_His eyes…_

Komaeda’s own eyes go wide, the smile falling off his face like a withering flower petal. He looks confused for a moment, then panicked, clenching the sheets in his hands, breathing picking up to near hyperventilation. The heart monitor starts going crazy, beeping and beeping louder and faster.

“K-Komaeda…?” He whispers, looking him over. Why does he look so afraid? So panicked? So–

The eyes. _His eyes._

He forgot his contacts.

_Fuck._

Before he can speak a word, doctors come rushing in, and Hinata is pushed out of the room. Was that why Nevermind was trying to stop him from going in? God, how could he forget his contacts?

He leans against the wall, and hears sobbing, then laughter, then silence. It all happens within at least two hours. By the time a doctor comes out, Hinata is sitting on the floor against the wall, staring at the ground. He’s tired. He knows what words are coming next.

“He remembers.” She says simply. He tugs on his hair hard, cursing. Komaeda had a chance to never know, to never have the memories hit him in the face, to never remember dying. Dying alone. Dying _unloved._

“He’s sleeping at the moment. I think we should let him rest for the rest of the night, at the very least, until we let you see him again.”

Hinata doesn’t want to listen. But he’s waited this long. He supposes he can wait another day.

_I’m sorry, Komaeda._

He goes back to his cottage, legs feeling heavy like lead. This…isn’t the worst thing that could happen, though, is it? Everyone else remembered what happened in the game, and bits of what happened during the Tragedy. They were all…not fine, but they clearly had the chances for recovery, to redeem themselves, to want to go on. But he didn’t know how Komaeda would react to all that…he was different than any of the others. What he’d become during the Tragedy…that had been the exact opposite to everything he believed in. Everything he clung to so fiercely.

He looks at himself in his mirror. He might as well cut his hair again. He doesn’t think there’s much else to do, after all. There’s no way he can sleep after everything that happened.

As soon as the sun rises, he’s back, walking over to the hospital.

Why does he care so much?

It’s not the first time he’s asked himself this question. He remembers Komaeda when he was calming, and smiling, and the Komaeda that looked at him with absolute devotion, and adoration, and trust.

But he also remembers the Komaeda that laughed during the trial, that mocked him for being talentless, that said it was okay if people died, or were murdered, because there would be an even greater hope born from that despair, or whatever.

It’s so confusing.

He wants to understand him. That’s why he’s so desperate…and since he doesn’t have anyone else that’s asleep like that, that’s why he’s throwing himself so strongly into seeing him again. That’s the only reason, right?

_If he remembers, will he hate me?_

Well, he’ll just have to get over it. I’m not giving up on him. I’m not giving up on anyone.

He pushes into the hospital, gets permission to see Komaeda. None of the others are there, but that’s probably because it’s so early. He wonders if anyone will come to visit Komaeda at all. Besides him.

He pushes into the room, stepping in with what he hopes is confidence.

Komaeda looks different already. Tired. That’s the first emotion that comes to his mind. That’s understandable, though. There’s an I.V leading into his arm, and a heart monitor still there. Those confusing gray green eyes look up at him when he enters.

There’s no adoration.

“Hinata-kun.” He says coldly, as Hinata walks in, sits on the chair next to his bed. Don’t let him get to you…

“Or, should I call you, Kamukura-san, instead?” His voice has that cruel mockery in it. It’s just like back in the last days before he died. Only this time he understands what Komaeda is talking about.

“No. I’m not Izuru Kamukura. I am Hajime Hinata.” He shakes his head, “I can’t even remember being him, anyway.”

“Is that so? So you really are just back to being just a useless Reserve Course student. Forever.” He huffs, looking over at the wall. “I suppose I can’t blame you for joining the Super High School Level Despairs, then, can I? It wasn’t really you.”

“Komaeda–”

“They said you helped wake me up, Hinata-kun.” He asks. Hinata looks up at him, then slowly nods.

“Yeah. I wanted you to wake up, Komaeda.” He says steadily.

“That only makes one of us though, doesn’t it?”

His breath hitches in his throat, but he really shouldn’t be too surprised. He should have expected this. He knew it was a possibility, after all.

“I assume the others are all up, as well?”

“Not everyone. But mostly everyone.” He shakes his head. “Are you going to try to kill everyone, again?”

He hums, thoughtfully, twirling a finger around his hair. “Maybe I should. This time, though, I’d have to figure out a way to spare you, wouldn’t I, Hinata-kun? After all, you’re a useless Reserve Course student, but you’re still worth more than the worst people in the world. And still worth more than someone as worthless as myself. I was already garbage, but I suppose I’m even worse now, aren’t I Hinata-kun? Someone who certainly doesn’t deserve having doctors keep me alive with machines–”

“Stop it!” He snaps, suddenly. He’s tired. He’s exhausted. He’s stressed. He doesn’t want to hear Komaeda talk about himself like that. Not now. God, haven’t they been through enough in the simulation? They have enough problems moving forward…this is…

“Ah, you’re looking at me the way you used to. With such disgust and loathing. Even when you were the only one to come and talk to me, you always looked at me like that. How could I have loved someone like you?”

“D-Don’t…don’t say stuff like that!” He shakes his head. Why is he bringing up love again? Why does he do this?  “I’m not…I’m not disgusted by you, Komaeda. I want to help you.”

“You certainly look disgusted, Hinata-kun.” He smiles that sardonic smile again. He shakes his head again. Why did he spend so much time trying to save him?

“I’m not! I’m confused, Komaeda!” He says, much louder then he intended to.

“Confused? What are you confused about? I thought I made myself very clear, Hinata-kun.”

He huffs. God, he’s aggravating! He should just leave…he’s done all he can to wake Komaeda up, and at least succeeded in that. There’s no reason to stay. He should just go.

But, like always, he keeps trying to understand him. Even now. They’ve gone too far to go back.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to make me hate you?” He shook his head, angrily. “I know that’s what you’re doing. Bringing up love, and calling yourself worthless…”

“But I am worthless. And I did love you, Hinata-kun.”

Even with how angry he is, colour still floods his cheeks. Why is he saying that? “T-That’s not possible. We only knew each other for a month, at the most! Stop saying weird stuff to make me hate you! I don’t hate you!”

He’s silent for a time, those gray green eyes watching him carefully. “You don’t hate me, even after I tried to kill you? Even after I tricked Nanami-san into killing me? Even after I tried to kill all your friends?”

“No! I don’t!”

Komaeda hums, chews on his lip, looks at him. “I guess you really are a Reserve Student, Hinata-kun. Your poor taste proves it.”

He bites his lip to prevent himself from snapping. He had to be calm…but he’s slowly starting to wonder if Komaeda is worth it. Dammit, no, that’s what he wants him to think!

“There’s no reason to keep blaming us, or yourself, Komaeda. Blame _her_.” With the disgusted way he says that, there’s absolutely no doubt who he’s referring to. “You…You don’t have to keep acting this way. It’s over! We don’t have to die for what we did! You don’t have to die.”

“I’m dying anyway, Hinata-kun.” He says in a low voice. “You know that. You read the doctor’s notes, didn’t you? They said it’s a miracle I’ve lived this long, but miracles don’t last forever. My luck could kill me tomorrow, even.” He laughs, “I suppose that’s karma, isn’t it?”

It’s at this point that the stress of the situation, of getting no sleep, of barely eating, of tiring himself day after day over Komaeda’s comatose body and books, of hearing Komaeda berate both of them severely, of hearing him say he could die tomorrow so casually... it finally breaks him.

And he starts to cry.

His shoulders shake as he curls in on himself in the chair, knees covering his face. Dammit, he doesn’t want to be doing this. He doesn’t want to cry, and especially not in front of Komaeda. But he can’t help it, as soft sobs escape his lips.

_Maybe he is as weak and worthless as Komaeda says._

“Hinata-kun…” Komaeda breathes, sounding surprised. “…Are you crying over someone as worthless as me?”

He wants to respond with a snap. He wants to stop. But he can’t. After a few moments of awkwardness, he finally calms down enough to be able to speak through his tears.

“I don’t want you to die, Komaeda. I don’t want anyone else to die, ever again.” He shakes his head, wiping his tears away while Komaeda looks at him in wonder. “I won’t let it happen! I don’t give a damn what you think your luck will make happen! I don’t care what the doctors say!”

Komaeda seems speechless. _Good._ It’s a good look on him. He wipes his hand over his face, over and over, until the tears stop. Thank god.

“H-Hinata-kun…” He stays silent, looking over him.

“Maybe you really were worthy of being Super High School Level Hope, if you truly believe that.”

He freezes for a moment, looking over at Komaeda. “What?”

“Your hope has always been so bright, Hinata-kun. It overtook everyone else’s in the game with ease. But to think you believe you have enough hope to be able to overtake my luck…” He shakes his head. “That really is Super High School Level Hope, don’t you think?”

He huffs, sits on the chair again. Komaeda’s back to making barely any sense again. He’s back to feeling exhausted again. Even more so, now that he’s cried for the first time since he woke up. Now he feels numb, and tired. Did he really get through to Komaeda, even a little bit?

“Why did you say you loved me?” He hears himself ask, too tired to filter the words.

“Because your hope was so bright, Hinata-kun. Everyone’s on the island was, of course, being Super High School Levels, but yours was different. And you kept talking to me, over and over, even if you seemed to get mad a lot. So I did love you a lot, Hinata-kun.”

He breathes in. Is Komaeda just messing with him, because he wants him to be angry? But when he looks up, he doesn’t see anything but sincerity in that gaze.

“Did.” He repeats the key word in that sentence flatly. “You _did_.”

“Before I found out the truth–that we were all part of the Despair Group.” He tilts his head, “but even then…well I suppose it’s not important.” He laughs. Why does he laugh so much? How can he laugh at something like this? He’s too tired to think about it.

“Can I tell you a secret, though, Hinata-kun?” He asks. Why does he want to tell me a secret if I’m just a lowly reserve course student with no talent?

“What.”

“I wanted you to be the traitor. I wanted you to live. I didn’t know who they were until I woke up here–but I wanted it to be you. Even after I found out the truth.” He laughs, “what a silly thing for me to want, don’t you think?”

He doesn’t have a response to that. He’s so tired. Drained.

This is not how he imagined his first encounter with Komaeda after he woke up would go.

“You look tired, Hinata-kun. Shouldn’t you go get some rest?”

He shakes his head, instantly. “No.”

Komaeda frowns, hums softly.

“You might try to hurt yourself if I leave. You said as much earlier. So I’m not leaving.”

Komaeda’s still frowning, brow furrowed.

“I can’t understand why you care so much about that, Hinata-kun.” He muses, “is it really just because you have poor taste?”

He’s tired.

He stands up, and sits at the edge of the bed. He’s too tired to understand Komaeda right now. Maybe tomorrow. But he still can’t leave.

“Hinata-ku–”

“Can I touch you?” He murmurs, looking over him.

“…Why would you want to touch garbage like me, Hinata-kun?”

He takes it as a yes. Hesitantly, he lifts up the other’s pale hand by the wrist, looks over it. He really is thin…he feels like it might break if he holds it properly. Why would he want to do that anyway?

He’s so tired.

He runs his fingers over Komaeda’s, but when he gets to the bottom of his index one, Komaeda starts laughing.

Genuinely laughing. Not that insane laugh, that mocking laugh, that cruel laugh. Genuine laughter.

“H-Hinata-kun…t-that tickles…” He protests. It’s weird to see Komaeda like this, smiling and laughing, after all this, even if it’s forced from tickling. It’s weird, but not really bad. It feels innocent. He does it for a few more moments, letting that atmosphere stay and linger, before pulling away.

“Sorry…” He murmurs absently, running his finger over Komaeda’s wrist. It’s thin too. Why is he so thin? Just because of his sicknesses?

“Hinata-kun..?” For once Komaeda’s voice does sound unsure, and confused. Good. Let him be the confused one, this time. He closes his eyes, then holds Komaeda’s pale, weak hand in both of his own.

“You’re my friend, Komaeda. That’s why I care. You’re not worthless. You’re not beyond saving. I don’t want you to die, again. The first time was bad enough.” He shakes his head, then rests it against Komaeda and his hands. He’s tired.

“But that probably doesn’t mean much to you, right?” He sighs, “because I’m just a worthless Reserve Course student.” Why does he feel this way? Why does holding Komaeda’s hand make him feel strange?

He wonders if Komaeda really did love him, before.

“…Well, I don’t care if that’s what you think. I’m still going to help you. I help all my friends. And maybe one day, you won’t think I’m worthless, anymore. Or maybe not. After you’re better, it won’t matter.”

Komaeda’s silent. His eyes are closed, so he can’t see what kind of face he’s making. Is it a face of disgust? Of hatred?

The same look Komaeda thinks Hinata gave him all those times?

He can hear the heart monitor. It’s speeding up; not dangerously so, but it’s clear Komaeda’s heart is beating fast, from this. Whatever that indicates, he’s not sure.

“…I’m tired.” He slurs out, as if it’s an explanation for his weird actions and words. He lifts his head, and opens his eyes, lets go of Komaeda’s hand to balance himself. Komaeda leaves it there, in the air, for a few moments.

“…You really aren’t going to hate me? Even after all I’ve said to you? Why?” Now Komaeda sounds lost. Almost hesitant and afraid.

He squeezes his eyes shut again. He should leave, send a nurse in here to watch over Komaeda. He’s much too tired to be here.

“I want to understand you, Komaeda. That’s why I visited you, and why I studied to try and wake you up. I want to understand you. Because I know that the person I met at the beginning on the beach…the only person that waited for me to wake up…I know that you’re that person. It wasn’t an act. And nothing you can say will convince me otherwise.” He sounds firm.

“Hinata-kun, you–”

He cuts him off, waving a hand. Shakily, he stands up. Pushes his bangs back.

“I’m going to go upstairs and sleep. I’ll send a nurse to make sure you don’t do anything stupid.”

He’s never seen Komaeda look so confused, and surprised in his life. It’s pretty satisfying. But at the same time, it’s a bit sad. Is that type of genuine care so foreign to him? He really does look lost, in a strange, sad way.

“I’ll come back later. I promise. So you better be here, Komaeda.” He walks over to the door, not wanting to look back.

“Hinata-kun…”

He doesn’t want to hear whatever he has to say, not now. He’s too tired. Too tired to respond, too tired to process it.

He leaves, sends a nurse in. Goes upstairs, and flops on the bed in the spare room instantly.

He falls asleep, remembering Komaeda’s laugh. His real laugh.

Yeah. There is still hope for him.

For us.


	3. Chapter 3

He visits, just like he said he would. Part of him doesn’t want to. After all, the last visit with Komaeda was so damn… _confusing_. Aggravating. Frustrating. But, at the very least, he doesn’t think it was pointless. That look, as he left the room, that look of confusion and near awe…he had to have struck a cord somewhere, with that. It was definitely satisfying, and especially so to know he could affect Komaeda that way. Hell, even just that Komaeda could be affected that way. He’s human, after all.

Before he goes there, he heads to the library. Picks out a few books. He remembers being here with Komaeda a few times…wasn’t it here that he told him about his parents? And how he’d been kidnapped?

At the time, while he didn’t think he’d been lying, it was just so far removed from his own world that he couldn’t comprehend it. Now, though, he felt pangs of sympathy for the Super High School Level Luckster.

_Should I have said something different? Should I have comforted him, or something? The way he reacted, it didn’t seem like he was expecting him too…has no one ever comforted him before?_

That can’t be right. Someone must have.

_Yeah…_

He heads over to the hospital, this time wearing his contacts. With them on, the only way he looks different from how he used to is his hair; it’s darker than before. He’s struggled to get it the same length as before, too, but he’s definitely not the Super High School Level Hairdresser. It’s a little choppy, a little longer than it used to be. It’s a bit frustrating, but he supposes he has to pay some price for the choices he made.

At least, in appearance.

He’s starting to think, as he goes towards Komaeda’s room, that it was a bad idea to tell the doctors Komaeda was suicidal. He’s not allowed to leave, now, even though the others were allowed to as soon as they were deemed psychologically and physically fit to walk around the island. Since he really does have cancer, he must be used to this. He probably hates it.

He’s not even sure Komaeda is suicidal.

_He already basically killed himself once, right?_

_And he said he didn’t want to wake up…didn’t want to be alive…_

_Are not wanting to be alive and wanting to be dead really the same thing…?_

Regardless, he’s not going to risk it. Komaeda’s door is closed, this time, and he enters without knocking.

Komaeda is sitting in bed, giving him an expression that’s something halfway between a scowl and a look of happiness. Weird.

“Hello, Hinata-kun. I wasn’t sure you would come back.” He gives another sardonic smile, twirling his hair around a finger lazily. Hinata huffs, dropping a book on the side table. There’s a pearl there, though, that catches his eye…

“I brought you some books. I remember you saying you liked to read.” He motions towards them, sitting back down in the chair and crossing his arms. Komaeda hums thoughtfully, reaching over with his hand and picking up on, setting it on his lap.

“A mystery novel? How lucky. That’s my favourite genre.” He murmurs, looking up.

“It’s not luck. I remembered you saying that it was your favourite.” He clicks his tongue, twisting his head to look out the window. It’s almost sunset…he really did sleep for a long time. Well, his sleeping patterns are completely ruined…

“Is that so?” He hums, flipping over the first page. Hinata watches him; watches as he instinctively tries to support the book with both hands, only resulting in hitting his stump against the binding. He watches as he bites his lip in annoyance, eyes narrowed as he shifts to a more proper position for someone with only one hand. It’s weird, but now it’s like he’s noticing all of Komaeda’s littlest movements and actions. Maybe that’s part of Kamukura’s talent…but he can’t remember ever doing it with any of the others.

Despite the awkwardness of reading a book with only one hand, Komaeda seems oddly relaxed and absorbed. He got like this sometimes, whenever they went to the library to read. It’s comforting and relaxing to watch him do something so normal and getting engrossed in a book. Hinata almost wonders if it would be better to leave, so he could concentrate better by himself, but…

“H-Has anyone else come to see you?” He asks after a few minutes of peaceful silence, hating the hitch in his voice. Komaeda pauses, stiffens noticeably, and briefly flickers his confusing, enigmatic gaze up to meet his.

“Nevermind-san did earlier, actually. She brought me a pearl she found on the beach.” He looks over to the object in question. Ah, so that’s where it came from.

“That…sounds like her.” Hinata murmurs, relieved. Other people do care…that fills him with an overflow of relief.

“Yes. She’s quite courteous. Likely it comes from her talent.” He speaks simply, then looks back at the page he was on, scanning his eyes slowly over the words. Hinata isn’t sure what else to say, so he just…watches. It’s kind of fascinating, watching Komaeda read, watch him absorb information. He can see the gears turning deep in his eyes, and gathers that he’s already figured out about half of this mystery from just fifteen pages. Even if he couldn’t see his gaze, he knows Komaeda is smart enough.

I promised I’d help him. But how can I help him, if I can’t understand him?

Should I push him for explanations? Or should I just let him relax?

Before he comes to a conclusion, a tuft of Komaeda’s snow coloured hair falls in front of his eyes. Annoyed, he reaches up to brush it out of his line of sight, but forgets that he only has one hand to do so with. The book tumbles out of that hand, onto the floor, and Komaeda sighs in frustration.

“Here, I’ll help.” Hinata offers instinctively, reaching down to pick up the book. Luckily, it landed so that the page was maintained, and not lost. He sets it open on Komaeda’s lap, and reaches up to brush his hair back behind his ear for him with his free hand.

His hair…it’s really soft…

It looks like a cloud, and feels like one, too. He lingers a little too long before pulling his hand back. _I wish I didn’t have to pull back._

…

…

_**…What?** _

_What_ did he just think? Why on Earth would he want to touch Komaeda’s hair? That’s…that’s definitely weird, isn’t it? Friends don’t think that kind of stuff, do they?

“…Thanks, Hinata-kun. I’m surprised you’re willing to touch garbage like me again.” Komaeda says softly, looking at him strangely for a moment longer before going back to his book. He sits back in the chair. He thinks it was weird too, doesn’t he? If Komaeda thinks it’s weird…

He shakes his head. No, this isn’t the time to be worrying about that.

After a few more minutes of watching Komaeda read, he speaks up again. The silence isn’t bad, but he feels like he should be doing something more.

“Have you been outside yet?” He asks, shifting his gaze briefly towards the window. The sun hasn’t set yet…so it’s still light out.

“No. It seems a certain person told the doctors I was a danger to myself, and so they think I shouldn’t be allowed outside alone.” Komaeda huffs, sounding very annoyed.

“What if I went with you?” He ignores the salty tone to Komaeda’s voice. Before he can respond, he stands up. “I’ll go ask. You stay here.”

“Hinata–”

He closes the door, and looks through the halls to find a doctor. They’re apprehensive about letting him go, at first. But Hinata’s persistent. He didn’t go to all that trouble to save Komaeda to just let him die, he reasons with them.

“Well…just be back before it’s late, Hinata-kun.” She finally says anxiously. He nods, and rushes back to Komaeda’s room faster than he would like to admit.

Komaeda’s still reading when he gets there. And he looks surprised to see him. Did he think I would just leave?

“They said it’s fine, but we can’t be out long.” He goes to the closet, where Komaeda’s outfit from before is. That long green coat, those weird, impractical shoes…the doctors said it will still fit him, anyway. Guess Komaeda hasn’t grown much physically in two years…

“Here.” He tosses the clothes onto the bed, setting the shoes on top. “Get dressed. I’ll wait outside.” He turns quickly, but just as he’s turning the doorknob–

“Hinata-kun.” Komaeda says smoothly, “how do you propose I change my clothes by myself, with one hand?”

Oh.

He turns to look back at him, and Komaeda looks both annoyed and amused at once. He clicks his tongue.

“Fine, you can go in your hospital gow–”

“It’s cold out, isn’t it? The sun’s almost down.” He waves his hand, “you probably don’t care much, Hinata-kun, but I’ll probably get sick if I go outside in this.”

Of course he will.

  
“I’d rather you not get a doctor to help, either–they should be more focused on helping the comatose people on this island, don’t you think?”

He’s not _seriously_ implying…

“Or maybe you want to watch me jump around on one leg, desperately trying to change my clothes with one hand–”

“Okay, fine!” He scowls, marching over to him, face slightly flushed. It’s no big deal…he’ll just see the same he did when he was swimming, yeah. Not a big deal at all.

Komaeda looks surprised for a moment, before his eyes lower slightly, and he sits up as Hinata  sits on the bed behind him, undoes the knot holding up the gown on the back of his neck, and slides it off.

Komaeda’s skin is…really soft….but…

It’s also scarred.

That’s not too unexpected, he supposes. They were terrorists, before. It makes sense that they would get wounds like this, but Komaeda’s seem more severe, and older too. He wonders if some of them are from the plane crash that killed his parents…or even that serial killer…

Pushing aside those thoughts, he yanks the white and red t-shirt over his head, making sure to be more gentle around the stump. He snaps out the jeans, and pulls them up to Komaeda’s thighs, when he notices something.

Scars there. Just like…the ones he gave himself in the game…

“Komaeda…” He whispers, a type of paralytic fear shooting into his throat. His head is looking over Komaeda’s shoulder, down at the plain to see scars on his thighs. Absently, rudely, impulsively, he reaches over and runs his fingers over them, to feel how fresh they are.

When Komaeda shudders under his fingertips, he knows it was a bad idea. A terrible idea, and pulls back immediately. He’s been watched by the doctors, of course, but Komaeda is clever, he could have…

“Where did you…?” He swallows. “…These are…just like in the game…Komaeda, you didn’t….” What if he did this, again, to emulate what he did in the game? Like he was making sure it didn’t go away…like he was making sure a mistake wasn’t corrected.

He remembers having to picture it….having to picture Komaeda doing that to himself, realizing it was the truth, realizing someone he thought was his friend for a time doing that to themselves and he didn’t realize it was going on, or that he was capable of that…of hating himself enough to do that. The fact that he couldn’t and didn’t help. He shudders, this time, burying his face in the back of Komaeda’s shoulder, despite the awkward position.

“…These are different.” Komaeda murmurs, twisting his head over. He feels tense, and stiff, and not relaxed at all. “I can’t remember very well, but I got these just a few weeks before it started. The game, you know.”

Hinata exhales, all his tension gone as he relaxes, going limp against Komeada’s back. Of course. Komaeda isn’t clever enough to avoid doctors specifically trained to know when someone is hurting themselves.

  
He doesn’t realize he’s shaking until Komaeda points it out.

“Hinata-kun…are you afraid?” He speaks up, “you’re shaking. Maybe you’re just sick? Perhaps it isn’t a good idea to go out today…”

“No…we…we’re going…” He speaks faintly. He’s remembering it now, seeing Komaeda’s broken body, the spear, the look of fear and agony, the numerous stab wounds in his legs, through his hand…

Stop. That’s over…it didn’t even really happen.

But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t haunt him. Reflexively, he squeezes Komaeda, as if to confirm that he’s really here, not an apparition, or spirit, or hallucination. Komaeda gasps out, and his eyes flicker over to him.

“H-Hinata-kun?” He sounds more confused than he’s ever heard him sound. He can’t breathe for a moment, but then he makes himself. Again, and again. Slowly, his grip relaxes, and he pulls away, shaking his head.

“Let’s go.” He says, hastily pulling up Komaeda’s jeans to cover the scars, then sliding on the other’s stupid godforsaken zipper shows. Komaeda’s able to pull on the jacket by himself, but he’s still looking at Hinata with some measure of confusion, even as Hinata pulls him out of the room, out of the hospital. The sun’s almost set, now, cool nighttime breezes moving through their hair. It makes him remember how his hair is longer, now, feeling it brush past his ears. He walks, almost aimlessly, but he’s at least trying to head to the beach.

“Hinata-kun…” He hears Komaeda behind him, before he apparently decides to follow him. It’s in silence, though, and it’s pretty distracting when his intention with this was to make Komaeda feel better, or at least a little more relaxed.

Eventually, they get to the beach, and Hinata sits on a thankfully flat rock, still shaken up.

“Hinata-kun…why were you so upset by my scars?” Komaeda muses, after a few moments of Hinata not speaking up, and the only sound being the ocean waves lapping against the shore, crashing and caving.

“We were all part of that group. Of course we’d have scars. Surely you do, too?” He persists, sitting on a rock opposite to Hinata. Hinata sighs, biting his lip. He doesn’t want to open up to Komaeda, but…he does want Komaeda to open up to him, doesn’t he? He’s going to have to be more honest, himself, for that to happen.

“It….made me remember what happened in the game.” He confesses, squeezing his own hands together. It feels weird, to admit things like this to Komaeda.

“What happened in the game?” Komaeda muses, running his fingers through his hair. Why is he playing dumb? He must know…

“…When you died, Komaeda. When we found you.” He states, as if he’s stating the obvious.

“Oh? You got that upset just by that?”

Now the anger is coming back. He throws his gaze back up. “Of course I did, Komaeda! You were dead! And then…we figured out you did that to yourself…!” He shakes his head. Komaeda frowns, and Hinata sighs, clenching his fists in the sand.

“…Why..? Why did you do that…?” He hears himself whisper, even though he doesn’t want to. They need to work on healing, not remembering all of these horrible things.

Komaeda hums, and sits on the sand in front of him. “I did it to kill all of us, except Nanami-san, Hinata. I thought I explained that very well.”

“That’s not what I mean…” His voice is shakier than he would like. “…Why were you so violent with it…? I can’t understand.”

Komaeda looks up at him. “Don’t you think a piece of trash like me deserves to have nothing less than a painful death?”

“…Is that the real reason?” He whispers, “the _only_ one?” He wants to understand, more than anything, and right at this moment, he thinks he might be able to.

“….” Komaeda is silent for a time, but he’s not saying anything to break this silence. It doesn’t feel like he’s ignoring him, more like he’s just thinking of what to say.

“I guess part of me…” He starts, “wanted to cause myself horrible luck, to make sure my plan would work. I don’t exactly like gags or being tied up if you remember what I told you before. I wouldn’t be surprised if you forgot.”

“Bad luck…” He trails off, feeling his fists loosen in the sand, as he exhales. “…You were kidnapped, you said.”

“So you did remember.” He hums softly. “So the bad luck from exposing myself to that trauma again, over and over…that would make it absolutely sure I got good luck after.”

Hinata doesn’t think that’s the whole truth. But he does think it’s part of it. And as much as he doesn’t want to admit it…he thinks the self loathing is the other part. You couldn’t do something like that, and not hate yourself, at least a little.

“I guess…that makes sense.” He murmurs, looking up at Komaeda. After seeing that, and hearing his reasons…an even larger part of himself is overwhelmingly relieved he’s alive.

“Now can I ask you a question, Hinata-kun?”

Slowly, he nods his head. He supposes it’s only fair. But he recognizes that it’s very possible he’s just going to run off if it’s a question he doesn’t want to answer.

“Why did you try so hard to save trash like me?” He picks up a bit of sand with his only hand, letting it filter through his fingers, before flinging it into the ocean’s direction. Hinata sighs, looks up. He’s still going on about being trash?

“I don’t think you’re trash, Komaeda.” He leans back on the rock, glancing over at him. “I told you that yesterday.”

“You meant that?” He laughs slightly, in that soft way Komaeda sometimes does, “I have to admit, I thought you were delirious from your studying. You were even holding my hand–such a disgusting, abhorrent, hand. Surely you must have been sick or something to do such a thing.”

He glares over at him, and out of some spite to prove him wrong, and certainly nothing else, he reaches his hand over the surface of the rock. When he takes Komaeda’s hand, it’s a little dirty from sand still, but it’s still warm. It’s still comforting. That cuts Komaeda right off, and he looks up at him in disbelief.

“I don’t understand why stuff like this shuts you up.” Hinata shakes his head, squeezing the hand in his, just slightly, as if he’s testing how much it can take, as if he’s testing to make sure it absolutely won’t break. He knows his face is red, but he’s hoping Komaeda can’t tell that in the moonlight.

“I mean, people hurl insults at you all the time. But you just take them in stride. But when I do this…it’s like you’ve never had any touch you like this before.” He looks over at him, sees the shock and wonder on his face.

Komaeda bites his lip, just slightly. “That’s because I haven’t, Hinata-kun.” He tilts his head, looking down at the hand in his as if he’s just been told someone was in love with him.

“Why…are you doing this?”

“Maybe I just wanted you to stop talking about yourself like that,” he squeezes the hand in his softly, hearing the waves still lapping against the not too distant shore. “I don’t think you’re trash, Komaeda. If I did, why would I have bothered to try so hard to wake you up?” He shakes his head, and exhales. Komaeda’s silent, almost as if he’s afraid to breathe.

“T-That’s funny…” He lowers his head so Hinata can’t see his face, but he can still hear his voice, “why do I like holding hands with a Reserve Course Student so much…? I really am desperate and pathetic.”

“D-Didn’t I ask you to stop talking about yourself that way?” He blurts out, trying to get a look at Komaeda’s face. Maybe this is a bad idea…but after Komaeda’s words, he doesn’t feel like he can let go. Komaeda sighs, and lifts his head.

“I’m scared, Hinata-kun.” He confesses softly, out of the blue, and Hinata doesn’t have a clue what prompted that. Sure, there are a lot of things he could be scared of that Hinata could understand, and probably relate to. But he doesn’t think he said anything to strike fear into his heart.

“W-What are you scared of?” He asks after a period of silence, biting his own lip now. Maybe he’s starting to mirror Komaeda’s actions. That’s not entirely something he wants to do…but it doesn’t seem like the worst thing in the world to mimic from Komaeda.

“…You’re holding my hand…the old me would have thought this unbelievable good luck…” He shakes his head, “and that means…something bad is going to happen, doesn’t it? That’s how it always works.”

Oh. That’s what he’s afraid of. In that case, shouldn’t Komaeda be afraid all the time…? Maybe he is, and Hinata just never noticed. Every time he thinks he’s about to understand him fully, something else comes around and makes him realize how little he knows.

But…that can’t last forever, can it? Komaeda isn’t an abyss of mysteries and enigmas. He knows he can understand him eventually, at least enough to help him more. He just has to keep trying.

“I didn’t decide to hold your hand because of your luck,” he protests. “I decided to hold your hand because I wanted to. It has nothing to do with luck.”

“I thought you held it to shut me up.” Komaeda replies after a moment of silence. Hinata blinks in surprise, not only at Komaeda’s words, but his own. Is that right? Did he really hold it just because he wanted to? The words had just flowed out of him…he hadn’t thought about them at all…didn’t that mean they were his honest feelings?

“You really do have poor taste, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda finally speaks and breaks the silence. Hinata looks up at him, and shoots a glare, despite the fact that he knows he shouldn’t.

“…It’s getting late, and colder. Even your ugly jacket isn’t going to stop you from catching a cold at this rate.” He stands up, and as he does, pulls Komaeda up by his hand. “We should go back, before the doctors think I’ve let you loose into the wild, or something.”

“Back to the hospital again…? It’s not very fun there, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda complains, even as Hinata begins dragging Komaeda on the pathway there. He’s just holding his hand still to make sure he gets there, and doesn’t run off. Yeah.

“I don’t care if you think it’s fun. You’re safe there.” He calls over his shoulder. Komaeda whines softly behind him. Like this, even if he’s complaining, it really is like back on the island, before all anything bad had happened. When they were just…talking. Like two friends. Komaeda isn’t insulting him, at least not as much as he was yesterday. And while Hinata is scared of that part within him that he can’t understand yet, he still wants to be able to understand it. And not just because he’s scared.

Because he can tell Komaeda wants him to, somewhere deep inside himself. Even if he doesn’t realize it.

“You could tell them I’m better. Then I could go…are our cottages still here?” Komaeda asks absently, and Hinata has no choice but to nod.

“Yeah, they are, but I’m not convinced you’re better yet.” He doesn’t even know if Komaeda can get completely better. But maybe he can get out of this complex of calling himself trash, thinking he’s worthless. And maybe he can get to a point where Hinata is convinced he isn’t going to hurt anyone, especially himself.

“Aw, you’re no fun, Hinata-kun…” Komaeda is staring down at the entwined hands between their bodies with apprehension, still. “Maybe _this_ is my bad luck…”

“It can’t be that terrible, being in there all day. I did bring you books.” He says over his shoulder. “And I’ll try to visit you. I do have stuff to do with the others, though.”

“Do you really think I’m going to kill myself, Hinata-kun? Or are you more afraid I’ll try to kill the others?”

That stops him in his tracks, and he turns towards Komaeda. How can he bring up something like that now? And so casually? Still, he can’t afford to be stunned or shocked. He has to answer.

“I’m mostly afraid…you’ll try to do both.” He says slowly, unsure of each word as they leave his lips. “I told you, though, I don’t want anyone else to die. We’ve been given second chances, and we should make the most of them, not think about hurting ourselves, or each other. That won’t fix anything, now.”

“I don’t really have a second chance, though, do I Hinata-kun?” Komaeda murmurs, “I told you, I’m dying. You saw the papers.”

“That doesn’t mean you’re going to die. Even if you’re dying you can still be saved. You could go into remission or something. It happens all the time, Komaeda.” He protests, shivering from the cold. It’s really late now…he tugs on Komaeda’s hand, to try and get him to follow him. “Come on. You’re really going to get sick at this rate, Komaeda.”

Komaeda, however, doesn’t follow. He merely hums, as if he’s realized something in an investigation.

“Sometimes, I still see your hope shining even now, Hinata-kun. It’s gotten even brighter since when I saw you in the game. It’s so beautiful, that you can show hope for someone like me. Someone who doesn’t deserve it at all.”

His patience is starting to wear thinner and thinner, especially with the cold, but somehow he thinks that Komaeda’s words are intended as a compliment of some sort.

“I think you deserve it.” He says, meeting Komaeda’s still enigmatic gaze, “now can we go? I don’t have a jacket like you to even keep me a bit warm…”

  
“Ah–if you want to wear it instead, Hinata-kun, I wouldn’t mind.”

“…No. Let’s just. Go. Okay?” He tugs on his hand again, and this time Komaeda allows himself to be pulled along, thank god. “I wouldn’t wear that jacket unless my life depended on it…”

“Really?” Komaeda laughs, that same genuine laughter he had before. It’s the first time he’s heard it since the accidental tickle, and it sends a course of…something…through his body. He’s not sure how exactly to define it, but it’s definitely nice. Definitely something he’d like to feel again.

Something is wrong with him.

Really wrong.

He’s holding Komaeda’s hand while leading him down the path to the hospital, blushing slightly just from hearing him laugh.

Yeah, something’s wrong.

“M-Maybe. I dunno. It might be an exaggeration.” He shrugs, as he picks up the pace a little. “It is ugly, though. I don’t understand why you like it so much that you kept it all this time.”

“I rather like it, but I suppose it makes sense that my fashion sense would also be trash, doesn’t?”

He takes in a deep breath. Even if he says anything to Komaeda, he’s not going to listen to him if he tells him to stop talking like that. He’s made that pretty clear. Maybe it’s a compulsion on Komaeda’s part, to insult himself over and over. Some kind of coping mechanism that Hinata can’t understand, something that helps him cope with all the horrible things that have happened to him.

At least he’s trying to understand him, even if he can’t yet.

He pulls him outside the hospital, but before he goes in, Komaeda tugs on his hand, digging his heels into the dirt.

“Hinata-kun, wait.” He blurts out, leaning against the wall. Hinata looks at him in confusion. Is he going to ask him to keep him away from the hospital, again?

“I don’t think you want to be seen holding my hand when we go in. People will look at you like they look at me.” He tilts his head, that fluffy cloud like hair flowing over his shoulder. Hinata blinks in surprise. Part of him wants to just hold it, anyway, because it does feel…comforting. To be able to touch him, confirm he’s real and physical and not some hallucination. But on the other hand, he would give the wrong impression, wouldn’t he?

“…Who cares how they look?” He shakes his head, and starts tugging Komaeda again, “most of them look at me like a freak already, anyway. I don’t care what they think about us holding hands, or whatever.” He says it as if he’s doing this out of spite for their purported judgement, which hopefully convinces Komaeda that he isn’t actually enjoying holding his hand. Not at all.

“Ah–well, if you’re sure, Hinata-kun.” Komaeda sounds just a touch nervous, but he could just be mishearing him. Just in case he isn’t, though, he instinctively squeezes his hand again, almost in an attempt at comfort. He’s even more surprised though, when Komaeda squeezes his hand back, again just slightly, hesitantly.

_When he squeezes my hand, it doesn’t feel like his could break at any time._

That’s comforting. Komaeda is stronger than he looks, after all. At least in some ways. It makes Hinata really believe even more that he can move past this. Grow from this. Survive this.

Or at least, he hopes so.

_Hopes…_

They do get strange looks from the staff, just like Komaeda predicted, but Hinata really couldn’t care less. They already know he was a terrorist, after all. They can’t really think much worse of him, can they?

He leads him back to his room, opens the door from him, then looks him over.

“Ah…do you need help with your clothes again?” He runs his free hand over his own ahoge, feeling it spring back after the motion. Komaeda hums thoughtfully, looking over his shoulder.

“I think I will, Hinata-kun. It’s not so bad, having you see me naked, after all.”

“W-Why do you have to say it like _that_ …?”

Komaeda laughs again–Hinata wants him to either stop doing that, or never, ever stop–and Hinata pushes him into the room, finding a robe on the rack. Komaeda manages to get that cursed jacket off by himself, but Hinata has to help him with getting off the shirt. And pants, which is slightly more awkward. Still, as long as he doesn’t look at those scars…he thinks he’ll be fine.

And as long as he doesn’t think about how pale and soft Komaeda’s skin is. Definitely don’t think about that.

He pulls the robe over his shoulders, and ties it. “I heard they’re thinking about making you a prosthetic hand. One of those fancy ones, you know?”

“Huh? Something like that would be wasted on me…” Komaeda shakes his head. Hinata sighs, just softly.

“I don’t think so, but whatever you’re going to think, I guess.” He finishes tying it securely, and sets Komaeda in the bed. He realizes he’s being a little too childish, though, when Komaeda laughs.

“Are you going to tuck me in too, Hinata-kun?” He teases lightly. It’s nice, having him tease him. It’s also extremely annoying, but…it’s simple, and familiar, and much better than the depressed Komaeda, or the cruel Komaeda, or the Komaeda who trips over himself and destroys himself trying to be a stepping stool for others.

“Well, you can’t do it yourself, can you?” He grumbles, pulling up the blanket to his shoulders. Komaeda snuggles in under the blankets.

“Such a good nurse, Hinata-kun. You took care of me sometimes when I had the disease too, didn’t you?”

“Only when Tsumiki had to rest.” He furrows his brow, just a bit, at the memories that brings to the surface, but shakes his head as if he can shake them away. “Are you comfortable?”

“Mmm…I could use a few more pillows…”

“Sorry, you only get one.” He stands up straight, brushing a stray lock of Komaeda’s hair behind his ear before he can instinctively reach up his stump to do so himself. It really is soft hair…maybe that’s part of being lucky.

“What a shame…well I suppose I can survive it.” He curls up a little more on his side, “you aren’t going to watch me sleep, are you?”

“N-No, of course not.” He stands up, crossing his arms.

“That’s a shame too…what bad luck…” He sighs dramatically.

“W-what…? N-Never mind, forget I said anything.” He turns to leave, lingering at the door. Tossing his head, he gives another glance to Komaeda.

“…Good night, Komaeda.” He murmurs, even though he himself won’t be going to sleep for a while. His sleeping patterns really are messed up, great…

“….Good night, Hinata-kun. And…HInata-kun?”

“Mm?”

“…Thank you for taking me outside today. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would.” He hums.

“…That’s good.” Maybe the hope of going outside again will stop him from hurting himself, if he ever wants to again. Or maybe not. He’s really not sure how these things work.

As he’s walking down the hall, he retains that hope. The hope that Komaeda will be safe, at least from himself. And an extra hope that he’ll be safe from his luck, too, at least for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of maybe switching to Komaeda's POV for the next chapter, but I'm not sure if I can do it justice. Hinata's POV is much easier for me....so I guess stay tuned.


	4. Chapter 4

The next days passed by in almost a strange monotony. Like they were cogs shifting through machines.

He wanted to help Komaeda feel better, get better. Recover. Every else was progressing steadily along that path, even though Komaeda’s seemed a bit more jagged. Still, he took him out, carefully at first. Sometimes it would be to watch a movie that was still somehow in the theater, sometimes it would be just to watch the stars at night. Komaeda liked looking at stars, he’d found out thanks to all this time he was spending with him.

“They’re so beautiful, don’t you think, Hinata-kun?” he mumbled to him, one of his long, slender fingers adjusting the focus on the telescope they had found. His stump accidentally hit against the other side, as if he’d been trying to use his hand to stable himself instinctively.

“...Yeah,” he responded carefully, looking up at the sky, pretending he hadn’t seem Komaeda hit his wrist. “They were never this bright back in Japan.” Hinata had never spent much time really looking at the stars; usually he was too tired, or too busy studying, or it was too cloudy.

“That’s because of the pollution, of course,” Komaeda spoke gently, squinting with concentration as he looked into the lens. Again, Hinata found his concentration pulled from the stars in the sky, to the boy with starlight in his hair sitting next to him.

He couldn’t believe he’d just thought that. But it was true; Komaeda’s hair did resemble starlight, somewhat.

He’d had thoughts like that about Komaeda a lot. It had started with him thinking his hair was soft, then that his eyes were like flickering lights, then that his hand was warm and secure...at first, it had alarmed him, but now...he just accepted them, let them float into his head, then tried to forget them as they passed.

“Komaeda?” he blurted, watching as he looked over to him in surprise. “Why do you, um, like stars so much?” He asked Komaeda a lot of questions, about a lot of things he thought. He wanted to understand him. Sometimes he did give a straight answer, one that made sense, but most of the time his answers were so confusing that he couldn’t understand at all what he was trying to say. It was frustrating.

Komaeda hummed carefully, before glancing over at Hinata. “...They remind me of hope.” He finally said, with a wry smile.

_Of course they do._

“Even in the darkest of nights...the darkest of despairs...there’s still light, and beauty in the sky,” He continued on, oblivious to the fact that Hinata had involuntarily scrunched up his face in distaste when Komaeda mentioned hope.  
“...Does that make sense, Hinata-kun?” He tilted his head, looked at Hinata’s face.

Hinata huffed, going back up to looking at the sky Komaeda seemed so infatuated with. “...Yeah. I mean, I don’t really get it or feel that way, but...I guess I can understand why you would.” Hope this, hope that...jeez, even now this guy was more annoying about it than Naegi - and he was supposed to be the Super High School Level Hope.

Komaeda didn’t make a response, merely nodded and went back to looking at the sky for a time. The quiet was welcome, in a way. It was peaceful.

“You know, Hinata-kun, they say shooting stars are more easily visible from places this desolate.” He spoke again after a time. “If you saw a shooting star, what would you wish for?”

_What would I wish for…?_

He thought about it for a few moments, burying one of his hands idly in the sand. “...I dunno. I mean…” He shook his head. “...Probably...I’d wish that everyone would wake up.” There were still three others who hadn’t, after all. “But that’s just kid stuff, right?”

“Hmm. I don’t know, Hinata-kun.” He shook his head, mirroring Hinata’s earlier movement. “I mean, you said yourself that miracles can happen. My luck is real, so why can’t wishes on stars be real?”

“...Those are two totally different things.” Hinata looked away, down at the ground. Komaeda was in the middle of starting to respond, but then made a soft gasp of delight that made Hinata look over at him.

“Hinata-kun, did you see it?” He was smiling, really smiling, looking more excited than Hinata had seen him act since he’d woken up. They were close enough that Hinata could see the reflection of a falling star in his eyes, but when he turned to look at the sky, it had already burned up.

“Ah - sorry. Looks like I missed it,” he mumbles sheepishly. The look of brief delight on Komaeda’s face withered away, and Hinata was left wishing he had just lied.

“...Oh. I’m sorry, Hinata-kun. It was my fault.”

“Your fault?” He blinks in surprise, shaking his head. “No, it wasn’t. I was looking at the ground, when you'd told me before I should be looking up.”

But Komaeda was shaking his head even before he finished. “It’s my luck….I’m really sorry, Hinata-kun.”

“Ah - um, no it’s okay.” Hinata ran a hand over the top of his own head, “I mean, we’ll get plenty of time to see more, won’t we? Even if there’s not one tonight, we can come back tomorrow or another night.”

Despite his efforts to cheer Komaeda up, he was still looking gloomy and depressed again. It scared Hinata, a bit, to see him like this. A shiver went through him as a cold breeze went by, and he sighed.

“But why don’t we call it quits for today, okay? It’s starting to get cold.” He stood up, dusting bits of starlight coloured sand from his pants. “You shouldn’t get sick - then they won’t let you out of the hospital, even if… ,” he trailed off. _Even if they believe you’re not suicidal._

Komaeda glances up, slowly nodded. Hinata reaches out, helps him stand up. With how weak Komaeda is naturally, it’s hard for him to get up off the ground by himself with only one hand. Hinata hums absently as he pulls apart the telescope, setting in the now sandy bag. Just as naturally as his humming, he loops the bag under his arm, and takes Komaeda’s hand in his.

He’s not sure if he’s trying to comfort himself, or the other by doing this. But he’s been doing this a lot, without even thinking. Leading him off back towards the hospital, he starts talking about his plans for the next day.

“I thought tomorrow, maybe, if you want to, we could have lunch with the others.” He looks over his shoulder, but Komaeda’s hair is covering his expression. “I-I’m sure a lot of them are worried about you, you know? And it’d be good for you to...talk to them again.”

Komaeda doesn’t respond, and Hinata sighs. Maybe it’s too early for that...it seems like at least part of him has forgiven part of Hinata for being Super High School Level Despair...but maybe he can’t forgive the others yet. Even himself.

“Or, if you don’t want to...that’s okay too,” He mumbles, feeling like an ass. “We can do what you want tomorrow, okay?”

“We already did what I wanted today, though, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda finally responds, though it sounds more depressed than Hinata had hoped.

“Well...I’ll think of something tonight, then, okay?” They’re already at the hospital, quicker then Hinata really thought they would get there. Maybe those periods of silence had been longer than he thought…

As soon as the start down the hall, Komaeda surprises him by asking for something.

“Hinata-kun, I’m so sorry I forgot to ask earlier...but I’m a bit hungry, and they don’t really give me anything to eat after sundown.” He hums. “Could you grab something for me at the market?”

Hinata should have thought it was weird - Komaeda rarely asks for anything that would inconvenience him even slightly. But, instead, he saw it as a sign that maybe Komaeda was starting to regard himself less as trash and closer to a real human being.

“Ah, yeah sure. You want anything in particular?”

“Not really. Just something light.” He tilts his head, “I can ask one of the doctors to help me change my clothes, while you’re gone.”

Again, Hinata should have questioned that, should have noticed something was off, but he didn’t.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?” He lets go of Komaeda’s hand, and Komaeda gives him a smile in return. It’s tinged with sadness, but Hinata doesn’t think it’s strange.

“You don’t have to hurry for my sake, Hinata-kun.” He calls after him as Hinata rushes off. It takes him longer to get to the market than he thought, it never seemed this far in the simulation. And once he’s there, it takes him even longer to find something he thinks Komaeda will like, at least.

_He’s going to be asleep by the time I get back, geez._

Finally, he finds a simply box of cookies - that’s fine, right? Something good and light? He shakes his head to stop himself worrying so much, and heads back to the hospital. It’s only a few more minutes until he’s not allowed to be here anymore, unfortunately.

“Komaeda?” He pushes open the door, seeing Komaeda sitting on his bed in a robe - so he really did ask someone to help him. That’s good, right? “I brought you some, uh, cookies.” He sets the packet on the counter, and Komaeda once again gives him that somewhat sad smile.

“Ah, thank you, Hinata-kun.”

“I-I know it’s not the best, but, they don’t have as much here as they did in the stimulation, you know?”

“That makes sense.” He looks over the cookies, humming softly. “Visiting hours are almost over, right? They want me to get lots of rest...though I can’t imagine why. The sicknesses I have don’t get healed with rest…”

“Hah, yeah.” He realizes almost immediately after that that’s probably not a thing he should have laughed at, but he can’t take it back. “It can’t hurt though, right?”

“...I suppose not.”

Komaeda looks like there’s a mix of sadness and resolution in his eyes. It’s a weird combination...but Hinata doesn’t think much on it. He’s starting to get tired himself, and asking Komaeda anything to do with his feelings usually doesn’t yield many fruitful results.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” He says as usual. Komaeda’s looking at the cookies still, running the fingers of his only hand over the package. “Komaeda?”

“Ah…” He glances up at Hinata, hesitating slightly. “...Yes. Of course. Good night, Hinata-kun.”

“Good night, Komaeda.”

As he leaves, he sees a nurse walking over to him, who then promptly tells him it’s time to leave. Unless Komaeda says something weird or cruel enough to piss him off enough, he’s usually here until visiting hours are over, so the nurses are probably used to shooing him away. Nodding, he sticks his hands in his pockets, exiting the building to walk back to his cottage in silence. Even if Komaeda isn’t ready to talk with the others...it does seem like he’s getting better. He’s less cruel now, less apathetic. It gives him hope, really, that this will work, that he really can help Komaeda.

He should have remembered that in the simulation, these brief surges of hope were always crushed with some sort of jarring despair.

It’s around four in the morning that a vigorous knocking - banging, really - is at his door. He’s half expecting it to fly off the hinges.

“Oi! Hinata! Get your ass out of bed!” Well, that would be Owari...that explains the feeling of dread that he has towards his door’s lifespan. He groans, still half asleep, yanking up his pants and heading to his door so it doesn’t have to sustain so much abuse.

“W-What is it...Owari?” But it’s not just Owari - Nevermind is there, too, and Nidai. “It’s too early to do some sort of race, or something, you know…” They often did that - battles or competitions between Owari and Nidai that someone had to judge.

“This ain’t about some kind of stupid race!” she yells, and Hinata realizes in that moment just how pale the three of them are. He rubs his eyes, listening to Nevermind’s voice as she picks up the slack Owari had in explaining.

“Hinata-san, we - we really need to take you to the hospital, okay?”

“Why…? Did someone wake up…?” No, they wouldn’t have that look of dread if someone woke up. The three of them look at each other, uneasiness clear in their gaze. Hinata frowns.

“What, then…” He’s still too tired to connect any dots. He’s just glad he didn’t have to solve any class trials when he was half asleep…  
“H-Hinata-san…” Nevermind starts carefully. “Please, stay calm, but...Komaeda-san...he…” She bites her lip. “...He tried...to end his own life again, just a few hours ago.”

…

…

What?

_What?_

**_“What?”_**   This time, the word comes out, the world crashing around him like the bitter waves roaring against the island. Komaeda...he tried to...he tried again? How...how could he even do that, in that hospital? There were doctors, psychiatrists…!

He recalls Komaeda’s odd behavior... _was that just to get me out of the way?_

Before anyone else can say anything, he’s out onto the pathway like a shot, exhaustion instantly forgotten as he rushes down the roads to the hospital.

_I thought he was getting better...I thought I was helping him…! I thought...I thought…_

_Maybe I really can’t help anyone…_

He pushes through the doors to the hospital, looks around for a nurse who can explain how the hell that happened. Maybe Hinata is a little too forceful with her, she seems almost afraid of him. But she gives him enough information to form a full picture.

Apparently, after he’d asked Hinata to grab him something to eat, he’d gone through the hospital, avoiding the few doctors and nurses there. He’d managed to find a vase, broke it, and had taken one of the pieces, taped it under his dresser. Once Hinata brought him some food, he’d eaten them, waited for a nurse to tell him lights out...and then tried to slit his own arm open with the piece. The only reason he’d been found out was the fact that they tried to have at least three people check on him when he was sleeping… but it’d been a close call. Very close. Too close.

Hinata is rendered speechless. He wants to yell, at this entire hospital staff for being so damn stupid. He shouldn’t have trusted them to take care of Komaeda. Naegi said they were trustworthy, but they still had worked for and came from Future Foundation. He takes in a breath, then another, restrains his anger.

“Could I talk to him, please?”

\--  
He wants desperately to pick at the scars under his bandage. But he knows there’s probably someone watching him - and the door is open, he can’t close it. How annoying. It was disgusting to him, how this hospital staff pretended to care about him, even though all they really cared about was following orders from their higher ups. Sheep, that just do what they’re told, move as cogs in a machine.

Pathetic. Worthless.

But it’s not like he was much better.

Even his plan had failed. He didn’t think it through carefully enough. He should have known that his luck would find a way to save him, even though he didn’t want to be saved at all.

He was too eager. Too brash.

Now a second attempt would be even harder…

_Hinata-_ kun _will be sad. But will he blame me, or himself?_

He wasn’t so sure on that. He hopes, though, that he blames him. _After all, I was the one who tricked him, and he didn’t even believe I was lying for a second. I took advantage of the trust Hinata-_ kun _foolishly gave me. It would be better for Hinata-_ kun _to stay away, to hate me._

That would make a second attempt much easier, if Hinata-kun hated him.

He still, really, can’t believe that he cares about him. Oh, he knows it’s true; if Hinata-kun didn’t care, even a little, why would he spend so much time with him? _Maybe he just doesn’t want to feel guilt if I did kill myself, and he let it happen._

That doesn’t sound right to him, though. As much as he wants to believe...he doesn’t think Hinata-kun is that selfish. The genuine look in his eyes proves it to him, as much as it also baffles him.

Still, he would like to be true. It would make a second attempt easier.

Really, though, this is his third, isn’t it? In the simulation...he’d known it was just a computer program, but he still believed wholeheartedly that he would die, anyway. For good. Forever. That attempt had succeeded...for a time. Then he was brought back…

He’d wanted to die on that island. So much. He wanted to have a meaningful death, not the slow, pointless death he’d end up eventually having from his cancer. His death in the game, it could have _meant something,_ it could have destroyed the last Remnants of Despair from the world. Finally, he could have a chance at a meaningful death…!

But Hinata-kun…’saved’ him, though only in the physical sense of the word. Why couldn’t he just let him rot slowly, in his coma? _Why wouldn’t he just leave me alone?_

He still doesn’t fully understand. Maybe he never will.

It’s strange that Hinata always says ‘I want to understand you,’ because Komaeda often thinks the same thing towards him. He wants to understand why on Earth Hinata-kun is so kind to him, why he holds his hand or brushes his fingers against his hair so much.

He remembers laying under that swinging spear, waiting for someone to throw that fire grenade. Hoping, praying, with his last thoughts that it would be Hinata. That Hinata would kill him, and be saved by it. But, it was too much to hope for.

_So, even though I know he’s just another Remnant of Despair...why do I care so much?_

Even when he’d been stabbing and slashing his own arm in that room, he’d looked over at the slightly crumpled bag the cookies had been in, and remembered Hinata apologizing for bringing him something he wasn’t sure he liked. Remembered how long he took to get here, probably because he was trying so hard to find something that Komaeda would enjoy.

Why does he think like that? Why does he care?

He doesn’t understand.

He wants to understand, even though he knows he doesn’t deserve to. When that thought passed through his head while looking at the cookie bag, he had twisted the piece of glass in his wrist harder, as if to associate the memory with pain.

He hears footsteps outside his door, in the hall, fast and loud. He looks up, just in time for his gaze to meet his. Hinata-kun.

“...Komaeda.” He takes a step back, then grits his teeth slightly, stepping into the room with obvious exhaustion, but still with confidence. He tilts his head slightly.

“Hello, Hinata-kun. I’m so sorry they roused you out of bed for a lowly bug like me.” He shook his head. “Believe me, that was the last thing I wanted.”

Hinata-kun looks tired, exhausted, angry, and stressed. It makes him feel absurdly guilty that Hinata-kun found out about what he’d tried to do. They could have given him a few more hours of sleep. Hinata-kun looks over his body, fixates on his arm with the stump that’s now covered to the shoulder in bandages, and steps forward toward his bed, sitting on the side. Komaeda looks over his face. Is he going to yell? He wouldn’t be surprised if he did…

“...Does...it still hurt?” he blurts out, looking at the arm. Komaeda hums thoughtfully. That wasn’t what he was expecting.

“Not much, really. They gave me a painkiller to dull the pain, even though I asked them not to.”

Hinata-kun looks lost. He bites his lip, and Komaeda takes note of how he bites it at the sides inside of the centre, like most people. The thought feels strangely like deja vu. Maybe he’s taken note of that before, but forgot. He doesn’t know why he would forget something like that, though. Most things with Hinata-kun he remembers in vivid detail.

“...Komaeda...I...I’m sorry.” He slumps, and Komaeda clicks his tongue softly. So, he is going to blame himself…

“What are you sorry for, Hinata-kun? As I recall you did nothing wrong. I was the one who stabbed into my own arm, after all.”

“...I...should have known you were acting weird.”

“...You shouldn’t blame yourself, Hinata-kun. I tricked you, after all.”

“...Komae-”

“And it was so easy, too.” The cruelty, the same kind he’d given during the first trial, slipped with ease into his own voice. “You’re so trusting, you know that, Hinata-kun? Did you really think I wanted to spend time with you? Of course not.” He huffs. “I was just looking for an opportunity to get away from this hospital.”

Hinata flinches, and bites his lip, and Komaeda takes note of how he bites it at the sides inside of the centre, like most people. The thought feels strangely like deja vu. Maybe he’s taken note of that before, but forgot. He doesn’t know why he would forget something like that, though. Most things with Hinata-kun he remembers in vivid detail.

“...I...don’t believe that, Komaeda.” He shakes his head firmly, and Komaeda laughs.

“Why not? It’s true. After all, who would want to hang out with a pathetic reserve course student like you, huh? You were interesting, at least when you were Super High School Level Despair, but now you’re just as boring as everyone else, not worthy of my time. So you can hurry up and leave now.”

That gets to Hinata, of course. Remarks about his reserve course status always do.

“Komae--” He stops himself from yelling, lowering his voice and taking a few deep breaths. “...I’m not leaving. I want to talk with you. I want to know why you did this.”

“Really, Hinata-kun, are you that dense? Perhaps you should slip into your far more interesting other self and have him figure it out. I’m sure Kamukura-san studied psychology, after all.”

“That’s not - “ He flinches, looking down. Komaeda can tell just how hard he’s trying to restrain his anger. “Fine. You’re saying you want me to figure it out?” He raises his hand to his chin, then puts on that expression he always had during class trials, when he tried to figure the crime out.

“I doubt you can, Hinata-kun. After all, you don’t understand me _at all.”_

“...It’s true...I don’t understand you as much as I thought I did. I really thought you were getting better, Komaeda.” He takes a breath. “But I refuse to believe...all that time we spent together was just a lie! I made the mistake of believing that in the game, and maybe if I’d tried harder...tried to get past that...you wouldn’t have done what you did.”

“I think you flatter yourself too much, to give yourself that much credit, Hinata-kun.”

“Even still...I…” He shook his head. “I’m not giving up on you. I won’t I refuse to believe that you’re beyond redemption, beyond saving!”

_Ah, there it is._

_His_ _hope…_

_It really is beautiful. I had no idea I’d bring this reaction out of him. Someone as worthless as me, bringing out such brilliant hope against such impossible odds…_

_It really is a miracle._

“You’re my friend, Komaeda. So I’m going to try and understand you...even if I’m wrong, I’ll keep trying to figure out why...keep trying, and I won’t give up!”

“...Well, then, what’s your theory, Hinata-kun?”

Hinata looked uncertain for a moment, then spoke on. “...Well, you only tried to kill yourself...so there must be a slightly different motive than in the game, where you tried to kill yourself and all of us.”

“Anyone could notice that, Hinata-kun.”

“...I don’t know how long you’ve been considering this...but...at the beach, when we were looking at the stars...you mentioned your luck. That’s when you got depressed, I noticed.”

“Oh?”

“...You told me...in the game...a lot of people have suffered thanks to your luck. People in a plane crash...your own parents. And you’ve suffered, too. You got kidnapped, and people just threw money at you after. You were all alone, and then...you got sick.” He nods slowly. “...I think you being unable to forgive yourself for being part of the Despairs was part of it...but...I think you also wanted your luck to just stop.” He looks up, looking hesitant. “...Am I right?”

“Hm.” Komaeda hums, running a finger through his hair idly. “I think I’d give you 70% on that assessment, Hinata-kun.”

“S-Seventy…?” Hinata-kun repeats, looking down at his hand. “...w-what parts did I get wrong?”

“It wouldn’t be much of a theory, Hinata-kun, if I told you exactly what happened to make you right.” He mumbles testily. Truth be told, he’s not entirely sure why he’s even telling Hinata-kun that much. But watching his hope push on against this odds...it’s thrilling, just like in the game. He remembers being glad he lived past the first murder, for a time, because he got to see more of Hinata-kun’s beautiful hope. Hinata-kun clicks his tongue, furrowing his eyebrows together.

“...Was it because of me? Did I do something wrong?”

“...Hmm.” He tugs his hair, idly. “...Half right.”

“W-Which half is right?”

“You have to figure it out, Hinata-kun.” He says cooly, “otherwise, it wouldn’t be any fun. And Hinata-kun? I’m getting bored of your theories, so you better make this guess count. It’ll be the last one.”

Hinata-kun tenses, sweating, and looks at his hand desperately, as if he’s some college student who’s written hidden notes for a test on his hand, and it has all the answers. For a long period of time, there’s only silence.

“...You’re worried.” He says, suddenly.

“Hmm?”

“...You’re worried your luck’s going to badly affect me.” He speaks with confidence, “I remember...how sad you looked when I missed the shooting star. You said it was because of your luck.”

“You...think I tried to kill myself because of a shooting star?”

“...You think your luck is going to hurt me. Worse than it did tonight. I remember, you’ve always worried about us going on high places before, you always warned me your luck would get me hurt if I wasn’t careful. I wasn’t sure how much I believed it...but you believed it. That’s part of the reason, isn’t it? The other thirty percent.”

Komaeda pouts, just slightly. Unbelievable…

“...Well, I’m going to admit I’m shocked you managed to figure it out without resorting to calling Kamukura-san.” He grumbles. But, could he really have expected anything else…? Hinata-kun was so perceptive, and smart…

“...Your luck’s not going to hurt me, Komaeda. I know that. I believe that.”

Komaeda huffs, looks off to the side. “How could you say that, Hinata-kun? You don’t know anything about it.”

Hinata-kun suddenly lifts his chin, gently, with his fingers. The gentle touches, slight swirling of his thumb on his jaw, makes tingles erupt throughout his stomach, even as he tries to get them to halt. With that gentle grip, he turns Komaeda’s head so it’s facing Hinata-kun’s. _He’s...he’s really close..._

“Because I did see the shooting star, Komaeda. I didn’t miss it, really.” He murmurs, eyes looking straight into his, and Komaeda is ashamed to admit his own are not as blank and unimpressed as he would like them to seem. Instead they’re wide, and slightly confused. “...I saw it in your eyes.”

...That….That’s really cheesy….and he’s so close…

He’s….He’s not going to kiss me, is he?

His heart is beating so fast, easily replenishing the blood he’s lost tonight faster and faster. Hinata-kun, looks at him, so close, _so so close,_ for a few more moments. Then, he pulls away, slowly lowering his hand from Komaeda’s chin.

“...You need to get rest. I’ll come by in the morning. I will see you, right Komaeda?” Hinata-kun sounds forceful, sounds confident, even as he’s clearly exhausted as he stands up, and even Komaeda can do nothing but nod slowly.

“Hinata-kun - “

“Good night, Komaeda.” He waves a hand, and just like that he’s gone. He can still hear that a guard is outside his room, but Komaeda can do nothing but look out into the empty hallway, mouth slightly open.

What was that?

Why does Hinata-kun always manage to surprise him, lately? He’s always drawing this pathetically shocked and surprised expression off his face. It doesn’t make any sense...what is he trying to do? Just understand him?

...He’s doing a bit better at that then Komaeda thought he would. Just a bit. He exhales softly, falls against the back of his bed rolls on his side, laying on the arm that doesn’t hurt, getting ready to fall asleep.

The last thing he sees before dreams capture him is that crumpled cookie bag, still sitting on his side table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did manage to get in a Komaeda POV in this chapter, yay! And sorry for the tease at the end, oops. Don't worry - they'll definitely get together sometime or later in this fic, I promise.  
> Also, Komaeda's repeated assessment of Hinata biting his lip is intentional - and I hope the reason for that is clear enough. Whoever guesses gets several cyber cookies.

**Author's Note:**

> Take a bit of note that this is my first major fic I've ever written, intending to finish. It's also based on a tumblr prompt I got, and I decided the potential for a full fic was too good.
> 
> If you want to contact me more, you can send me asks at my tumblr: ultimate--despairs.tumblr.com


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